


From One to Another

by ongoing_monachopsis



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Future Foundation (Dangan Ronpa), Gen, honestly just DR but with Pokemon, implied kamunami but that's up for interpretation, little scene snippets of mewtwo and spoiler-kun because i don't know how to write properly, this whole thing is honestly just based on this one cool fanart i saw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 02:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ongoing_monachopsis/pseuds/ongoing_monachopsis
Summary: The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History has left its scars on the world, and Mewtwo stands back and watches.Someone finds him, and watches along with him.





	From One to Another

Mewtwo scanned the remains of the ruined earth, and almost laughed. The sight of war-torn soil and mountainous rubble, decomposing bodies strewn about in the wreckage, was as endless as the scorched red of the sky that stretched above him.

He’d hidden himself in a tall building that somehow, even if it was missing a few storeys and what remained of the walls was riddled with holes, had stayed standing. It seemed that the fortifications were sturdy even if the building itself was not. At this vantage point, he was far away from what remained of the savage humans running rampant across the surface of the earth, spreading despair like an infestation of diseased vermin.

If not for the fact that Pokémon were also suffering from this tragedy, Mewtwo almost definitely would have laughed.

He stood in what looked like the torn remains of a classroom, judging by the broken bits of chairs and desks strewn about what was left of the floor. In this particular spot he was given a very clear view for miles, whilst also high enough that it would be virtually impossible for him to be spotted from the ground. It was perfect.

It was here that he stayed, preferring to remain alone in this forsaken place and content to stay until the end of his days. Never interacting, just watching. Observing. There was nothing for him out there.

That is, until one evening he noticed a vase holding a single flower sitting atop the only desk that remained standing.

Startled out of his apathy, Mewtwo warily held his ground and hesitated to approach it. It was not there an hour previously when he’d left, yet here it was upon his return, placed so precisely it mocked him.

_Someone is here_ , the vase’s presence said. _And you don’t know where they are._

Without thinking he summoned a shadow ball between his inner and outer fingers, posture defensive, senses on high alert. _“Show yourself!”_ he projected his psychic voice, readying himself for an attack.

A breeze smelling of rust and death swept through the remains of the classroom. Nothing moved.

Time passed.

“…If I do,” echoed a quiet voice from the shadows. “You will attack.”

Mewtwo blinked in surprise; he hadn’t expected the response to be verbal.

_“I will attack only in self-defence. I am willing to be peaceful,”_ Mewtwo lied, hoping to coax out the intruder. He sensed the presence as human, and he fully intended on keeping those out of his building no matter what.

The voice did not hesitate. “I do not appreciate being deceived.”

_“I am not deceiving--”_

“Spare me the falsehoods, Pokémon. In times like this, peace offerings will get you killed. You’re far too intelligent to spare me.”

Frustrated that his plan had been thwarted so easily, he held his ground. An opponent perceptive enough to see through his lies was not one to be underestimated. _“What are you doing here?”_

“Do I need a reason to be in my own home?”

No matter how hard he tried to pinpoint an exact location, the voice seemed to be constantly moving. It aggravated and unsettled Mewtwo in equal measure. _“Your home?”_

“Yes. My home. Just because you saw fit to invite yourself in and wither away out of sight does not mean you live here. You’re a pest to be rid of.”

Mewtwo bristled at the insult, ready to cast aside his caution and attack blindly. Before he succumbed to the temptation, he fought to gather his thoughts, forcing himself to be calm. Perhaps a provoked attack is what the voice wants. They were always the easiest to counter. _“…Will you not show yourself?”_

The air was still. Neither of them moved.

Time marched on.

It reached the point where Mewtwo seriously reconsidered his option of sending an attack into the darkness that a single, polished shoe stepped into the light. Followed by another.

Mewtwo looked to the face of the intruder and suddenly found himself immobile.

It took Mewtwo considerable effort to determine the human’s sex visually; their masculine body shape conflicted with a slightly effeminate voice. The human’s face did not particularly lean either way, nor did their clothing. Long hair (and this human had _plenty_ of it) was typical of human females, but in this case Mewtwo wasn’t sure. It seemed less that the human deliberately grew out their hair, but rather that they didn’t care enough to cut it and just let it grow out as it pleased.

What was quite possibly the strangest human he’d ever laid eyes on finally stepped out of the darkness, standing far too casually not to be planning anything.

“Here I am,” said the human sardonically, staring unblinkingly at Mewtwo with the reddest eyes he’d ever seen. “I hope my appearance is satisfactory. If I’d known I’d have a visitor I would have had my suit pressed.”

Despite the obvious sarcasm dripping from the human’s tone, Mewtwo’s head tilted to the side. There was a bad feeling settling in his gut, one he couldn’t put a name to. It only worsened the more he looked into the human’s very, very red eyes.

Then, out comes a question he doesn’t expect. _“What is your name?”_

Judging from the owlish blinking, the human didn’t expect it either.

In the far distance, a large BOOM disturbs the otherwise quiet evening air. Neither of them move.

Time passes.

“…Kamukura Izuru.”

_A male name,_ Mewtwo thinks. A male human, then.

He’s not sure why the shadow ball in his hand dissolves at that, nor why he stands up straighter, putting him at a disadvantage were the human to attack. Yet somehow, he knows the attack will never come.

Kamukura Izuru’s head tilts to the side at this. Doubtless he is confused too. “You are not attacking me?”

_“No.”_

“For what reason?”

_“I don’t know.”_

That was a lie; Mewtwo knew full well why he stood down.

It was Kamukura’s aura. His very presence chilled the air around him, and Mewtwo suddenly found himself unable to look away from his eyes. Though he had never met this man before, the look in his eyes was painfully familiar.

“… you are like me,” says Kamukura Izuru, after a long moment of silence. As if he was confirming some unspoken thought between them. Mewtwo’s expression twists, but he cannot find it in himself to deny it.

Another breeze passes over them, playful tendrils of wind brushing against the human’s immense volume of hair. Neither of them move.

.

.

He knows not how, but Mewtwo and Kamukura Izuru somehow find themselves sitting on the edge of the floor where a wall once was. An eight-storey drop hangs below their feet.

And they talk.

“You find me abhorrent despite the fact that you are the intruder?”

If Mewtwo had a nose, he might’ve wrinkled it in distaste. _“You are a human. All you are capable of is committing misdeeds. If not to Pokémon, then to yourselves.”_

Kamukura didn’t hesitate to counter. “Wouldn’t that imply that you, a creation of humans, is the very embodiment of a mistake?”

Mewtwo had no answer.

.

.

“You cannot blame me for the mistakes of my species.”

_“Because your species is so misguided, I have reason to believe you are too.”_

Kamukura had the nerve to roll his eyes at that, looking absolutely and utterly _bored_. “Is it truly accurate to have such a strict conclusion on someone purely because of species? With such flawed logic like that, one could conclude that you are tameable. With the right badges and the right Pokeball, you’d be putty in the hands of the humans you so despise.”

_“You’re wrong.”_

“Am I? You’re a Pokémon. All your species is capable of is following orders.”

.

.

“You speak with the naivete of a child. You’re gullible enough to think that the world is separated into good and evil, black and white. Any being with experience knows that such thoughts are narrow-minded idealism and nothing more.”

Mewtwo’s brow furrowed, displeasure evident in his eyes.

Kamukura Izuru sighed. “…though that is of no surprise to me. You haven’t existed for very long, so it is logical that you think like a child.”

Mewtwo decided not to acknowledge the insult. _“How do you know about me? I have yet to tell you who I am.”_

“I need no confirmation to know who you are, foolish Pokémon.”

.

.

“The research data and files compiled from your creation were essential for me to exist. Had you not been created, I’m certain neither would I.”

For a moment, Mewtwo was speechless.

_“No one, neither Pokémon nor human, is created as I was.”_ When he said it out loud, it sounded less convincing. _“Especially humans.”_

“The scientists who made you wanted to create the perfect being.” Had Kamukura Izuru been someone else, he would’ve given a wry smile. “The scientists who made me had the same objective. In a sense, you are my prototype.”

_“I have nothing to do with you,”_ said Mewtwo bitterly. _“I have no associations with humans.”_

“Then perhaps,” mused Kamukura, “I am just as much a human as you are.”

Mewtwo was silent.

“Which is to say, not at all.”

.

.

_“Did you leave the flower to mock me?”_

“Had I wished to mock you, foolish Pokémon, I would do it with words.”

Mewtwo huffed in distaste. Truly, he had no idea how or why he tolerated Kamukura for this length of time. _“Then your motive?”_

Kamukura was silent for an uncomfortably long time. His gaze roamed across the burning horizon of the earth, his voice unusually distant. “It wasn’t for you.”

Mewtwo heard several layers of meaning in his answer.

Delving deeper into the mental connection between him and Kamukura gave him all the answers he needed; all it took was the flash of a bloodstained hairclip and the immense, overwhelming feeling of _despair_ to render him silent.

.

.

It takes a surprisingly long time for Mewtwo’s previous question to be reflected back at him.

“What is your name?”

_“I thought you read my files. Do you not know the name I was given?”_

“I do. But do you not have a name of your own you prefer?”

The Pokémon feels oddly moved at the notion that Kamukura asked him personally what he preferred to be called. Under different circumstances he would’ve _seethed_ at any human referring to him by a name he himself hadn’t chosen. Yet… _“No. Call me Mewtwo.”_

Kamukura nods. “Very well.”

.

.

“Truthfully, my name is borrowed. I was named after the founder of the academy I was created in to honour him, supposedly.”

_“Was your birthname deemed inferior?”_

“It was the name of a talentless child, of course it would be regarded as such. My scientists were careful not to leak my previous name to me. I know no other name to call myself.”

_“Is ‘fool’ to your liking?”_

Kamukura likes to think he kept his composure at the jab, yet Mewtwo swears he saw a brief twitch upwards of the corner of his mouth. Mewtwo couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed at the swell of pride in his chest.

.

.

_“Do you not consider yourself human?”_

“In terms of species or mindset?”

_“Both.”_

“No.”

_“To both?”_

“Yes.”

Had Mewtwo a nose, he’d have sniffed doubtfully. _“For someone that claims no allegiance, you seemed rather defensive of them before.”_

“You insult me if you assume I’m one to take offense easily.”

_“There is a blindingly ironic facet to your statement.”_

Kamukura sighed with an emotion Mewtwo couldn’t accurately pinpoint, then scanned the scorched horizon before them once more. There was a faint red glow emanating from the sky, and Mewtwo faintly wondered if the sun even existed anymore.

“… _she_ was a human,” said Kamukura after what felt like an eternity. “Any insult you offer to humanity, you offer to her.”

Mewtwo’s head tilted to the side. His thoughts wandered back to the _(memory? nightmare?)_ vision he’d seen in Kamukura’s mind and the flower in the vase on the desk behind them.

Though he was _far_ from liking Kamukura, Mewtwo understood. He understood better than anyone else possibly could.

.

.

It isn’t until a loud, blaring noise that sounded eerily like a siren permeated the distant evening air that Kamukura leaps up from his spot, very nearly flying off the building and plummeting down to his death. Mewtwo wasn’t honestly sure if he would bother to save him, had he fallen.

Mewtwo rises to his feet, noting the subtle look of displeasure on Kamukura’s face.

“Future Foundation.”

The name was foreign; delving into Kamukura’s mind told Mewtwo all he needed to know. The whirl of helicopter blades seeped into the air. _Enemies approaching_ , his instincts screamed.

_“They seek to find you?”_

“They seek to capture me.” Without another word, the human turned and exit the room at a speed that left Mewtwo reeling. He’d never seen a human move that fast.

Mewtwo sped after him, easily keeping pace with Kamukura. _“Where will you go?”_

“Anywhere that isn’t here.” They round a corner, racing down a stairwell that Mewtwo had previously thought to be curiously free of rubble; Kamukura being an inhabitant of the building had explained that. “The remnants of despair outside will not attack me, so I am at an advantage.”

Mewtwo decided not to question it, and together they raced down the building.

Despite the superhuman speed to which they were moving, Kamukura casts a curious glance to the Pokémon. “Will you not stay here?”

_“You seek to be rid of me that much?”_

“The academy building will be uninhabited now that I am leaving. I assumed you’d be more than happy to kick me out.”

_“I sought refuge in that building to wither away. Now that I’ve found you, there is finally something I can do that will both keep me entertained and will not help humans.”_

(Faintly, Mewtwo realised his phrasing insinuates that he’d accepted Kamukura. Considered him non-human. And to Mewtwo, ‘non-human’ was his one and only prerequisite for an ally.)

Kamukura almost smiled. “How cruel.”

.

.

Despite the near maniacal states of mind the majority of humans share, there is one unspoken rule in Japan:

Never, _ever_ approach the man with the Mewtwo.

It is said that the Mewtwo is one he himself created as a shield from the outside world since the Tragedy struck, whilst others say that they were created alongside each other, bound by an invisible connection naked to the human eye, destiny’s pull keeping them together no matter how much they desire to be apart.

_The Mewtwo is never kept in a Pokeball,_ whispered rumours say. _The man who accompanies it never says his commands out loud. Some say he does not even give commands at all. They need only be together, and they move in tandem no matter what they’re doing._

_Like one of the old gym leaders before the Tragedy,_ more whispers say. _Sabrina, the psychic that communicated with her Pokémon telepathically._

Of course, the rumours do fall on a few deaf ears. Those insane enough to approach the unbeatable duo, superior even to the legendary Enoshima Junko, are thought to be dead before the match even begins.

The man and the Mewtwo are not trainer and Pokémon.

They simply are.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I know everything about Danganronpa and absolutely nothing about Pokemon  
> I honestly wrote this only because I can't find anyone else who has
> 
> Thank you for your understanding


End file.
